


The Painter and The Poet

by fallfromgraceonmyface92



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: AU, Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art, Dark, Depression, Drug Use, Gay Panic, If you only read one work by me, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Inspired by Music, Internalized Homophobia, Long, M/M, Marijuana, Mental Instability, Muses, Normal Life, Pain, Painting, Past Character Death, Past Drug Use, Poetry, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Redemption, Rehabilitation, Romance, Secrets, Self-Denial, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Tysh, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, joshler - Freeform, twenty one pilots - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7502076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallfromgraceonmyface92/pseuds/fallfromgraceonmyface92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler is the definition of suffering for your art. Devoid of inspiration and harboring a dark secret, Tyler leads a path of self-destruction via alcohol and reckless behavior until he's intercepted by a pink haired poet with tea colored eyes, a stubborn, hopeful spirit and some secrets of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Run and Go

There was a pounding at the door and ringing in Tyler's ears. As he continued further into consciousness, he became aware of several things; one of which was the pungant odor of acrylic paints and vomit. The next was that he was, in fact, face down in both. He groaned, kicked his fallen stool from beneath him and began to push himself to his feet. As he stood, he was bum rushed by a wave of nausea. He grappled the side of his head as the pounding at the door and in his head increased, only to pull his hand away covered in puke and smeared paint.  
"I'm c-" Tyler began before succumbing to a bout of coughing, "B-be there in a second!" He stepped somewhat carefully over the shards of glass, the tipped stool and the ruined canvas and easel. Despite the cough, he grabbed a discarded pack of cigarettes from the floor of the mudroom and lit one with a lighter from his pocket, as he opened the door.  
Tyler cringed as the sun fell upon his bloodshot eyes. On the other side of the door was his younger brother, Zack. His face changed instantly from thinly veiled impatience to complete utter disbelief. Tyler could imagine what he was seeing as he took him in. He was seeing his big brother, whom he used to look up to, with paint and last night's crappy take out plastered to the side of his face and hair, a three week beard and two days ago's sweaty, paint-stained clothes. "T-Tyler, " Zack stuttered, "J-Jesus H. Christ! "  
Tyler took a long draw from his cigarette and exhaled, "good to see you too, little brother. Come on in." 

He stepped aside to allow his sibling entrance. Zack was silent as he wandered stiffly toward Tyler's living room shaking his head at each randomly discarded example of Tyler's failure. Tyler followed quietly, wondering what it was Zack had come for. He began to theorize the possibilities only to be interrupted by the younger man's exclamation, "what the fuck is that? Is that.... puke?!"  
Tyler weaved his way around him to look down at the canvas. He had to admit, it even made him feel a little sick. He had painted a white base and had begun to paint words in black and red. The blacks and reds were smeared and smudged from legibility, most likely, across his face. Much like his memory of having started the painting, from his mind. The cherry upon the nightmarish sundae was the half digested mushu pork and cheap vodka in a congealed puddle on the right side of the painting. Tyler hummed, "so it is."  
"Dear God," Zack sighed squeezing the bridge of his nose in exasperation, "I didn't believe dad when he told me how you'd been living. "  
Tyler snorted and threw his cigarette into the vomit puddle, causing a sickening sizzle as the former contents of his stomach extinguished the cherry.  
"But this," Zack gestured around the room, "this is how mental patients and drug addicts live!" 

Tyler looked around and assessed the damage for the first time in days. Bottle after empty bottle of vodka riddled the tables and floors, the ash trays were overflowed, paint splatters on the walls and furniture and take out boxes as far as the eye could see. He shrugged.  


"Tyler, " Zack snapped, demanding his attention, "do you know why I'm here?!"  


"No," Tyler mumbled, not meeting his eyes, "but I'm sure you're going to tell me. "  


"Mom and dad sent me here to tell you," he stalled, actually snapping his fingers til Tyler met his familiar, brown eyes, "they sent me to tell you that they're cutting you off."  


Tyler's eyes widened, "What?! Why?"  


"You really have to ask?" Zack scoffed, "for starters you're an alcoholic." Tyler made a raspberry sound with his mouth, earning a deep frown from the younger brother.  


"On top of that, you haven't sold a painting in over a year, " Zack continued defeatedly, "dad's pissed because he's still carrying your student loans on his credit only for you to have dropped out of art school."  


"That's what you get for asking a high school kid, who two weeks before, had to ask permission to piss to decide the rest of his life. Besides, do you think art is created overnight? It requires inspiration." Tyler argued pointlessly.  


Zack laughed without humor and pointed to the soiled painting, "if this the best you've got and vodka is your muse, I wouldn't expect them to save you a place in the Louvre."  


"So, what the hell am I supposed to do now?" Tyler said sitting down hard on the ground, his chest tightening with the beginnings of an anxiety attack. 

He groped blindly for the nearest bottle with the mind killing serum. His fingers tightened around a half a pint of Dark Eyes vodka. His hands shook as his brother stared in horror as he uncapped the bottle and poured the contents straight in his mouth, hardly wincing from the taste.  


"Jesus Christ, Ty, it's 11 a.m." Zack shouted at him, "how about for one, you go to rehab or A.A. or whatever and get clean and get a real fucking job?!"  


"Fuck you," Tyler spat venomously, "art is a real job."  


"Yeah, well," Zack began starkly, "the whole starving artist thing isn't cute anymore. You're cut off. Mom's going to have some groceries delivered regularly and dad paid your rent for the next couple months but beyond that you're on your own. You'll have to find your own way too get plastered from now on."  
Tyler took another burning swig from the bottle and stared at his feet as his brother started to leave.  
Zack turned suddenly, "you know what hurts the most about this, Ty? ....you were my hero. I idolized you and I looked up to you and once you were worthy of that and now... you're this blurry drunk that I hardly recognize. People die, brother. You don't have to die with them though."  


With that, he was gone, leaving Tyler alone with his mess.  


Tyler's chest was constricting by then, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He felt like the room was spinning as he pressed the bottle to his lips and chugged the rest of the bottle. Already he felt his body relaxing under the pull of the stinging liquid. He shook the empty bottle and looked around for another, to no avail.  
"That simply won't do, " he announced to himself aloud. He started decisively toward the door grabbing his keys and wallet shakily on the way.  


He stumbled out the front door shielding his eyes from the sun. He started toward the nearest liquor store in town. The burbling Ohio suburb was already bustling with Saturday traffic.  
Tyler took no note of any detail, his mind singularly focused on avoiding the pain burrowing deeper into his chest. Finally after 15 mindless minutes, the familiar hole in the wall appeared in his line of vision. He quickened his stumbling pace and pushed through the glass door.  


Once inside, Tyler felt a strange surrealism as country pop poured from the wall-mounted speakers in the store. An attractive, young woman sat behind the counter staring openly at her cell phone. It was as if he had forgotten there were normal people out there living normal lives. He shook off the feeling and grabbed a gallon of the strongestvodka in sight and headed toward the counter.  


The girl's smile fell as she took in his face and he placed the bottle on the counter.  


"Is that all for you?" She asked tentatively, as if suddenly sensing his disturbed mindset. He nodded sharply and she scanned the bottle. 

She placed it in a brown bag which he grabbed immediately.  
She told him his total and asked him, "cash or credit?" 

He pulled his Master Card from his wallet and waved it toward her. She rolled her eyes and told him to swipe the card. He slid it and tapped his foot impatiently.  
"Um... I'm sorry," the girl said, nervously, "it says here that your card has insufficient funds." 

Tyler froze.  


"C-can we try again?" He inquired, his voice pitchy and odd.  


"I-I mean we could but it would most likely be declined again," the girl said, sweeping a lock of red hair behind her ear, "I'm sorry."  


"O-of course. You're right." Tyler acquiesced in monotone, staring down at the bottle in his hand, his mind reeling. Without conscious thought he began backing toward the door.  


"I have some money out in my car, " Tyler told her in a nearly pleading voice.  


"Sir, I don't see a car, out front," the red headed girl stated calmly.  


"I parked up the street," he falsely assured, free hand out like a sign of surrender as he inched further away.  


"You should leave the liquor here til it's paid for," the girl urged, her eyes widening as Tyler's hand fell on the door handle. 

Tyler stopped for a second, his eyes glued on her face as he noticed she wasn't reaching for the phone. He looked to the door then at her, then back again.  
He made up his mind. Then he was pushing out the door, the girl running from behind the counter. He started running the moment his feet hit pavement. 

Despite odds he was already at the end of the block by the time she reached the door, yelling, "Sir, come back!!!"  


Tyler conceded in his own mind that it was already too late for that. He ran, hardly bothering to watch for traffic. For some reason, strange laughter was bursting from his burning chest and he couldn't stop it. Nor could he stop running, his stolen goods tucked beneath his tan, paint-smeared arm. So he ran and ran, until he couldn't inhale breath. Until he had taken so many turns he was somewhere deep downtown, he didn't recognize. He ran until the laughter turned into sobs and tears poured down his cheeks mixing with persperation leaving streaks down his painted face. 

He slowed to a stop at the mouth of an alleyway, clutching his chest for air. He hobbled further into the shade of the narrow passage and sat down next to a big black dumpster. He uncapped the gallon and there he alternated drinking, hyperventilating and sleeping in that alley until 7 hours had passed and Tyler had consumed nothing but vodka in the last 12-15 hours and was quite possibly more drunk than he'd ever been... except, maybe once before and somehow the gallon was gone and he was thirsty.  


By some miracle, he made his way from the ground to the outside of the alley. It was now late evening and the sky was already darkening and the air had adopted the Autumn chill. The streets were filling with passersby. Tyler was once again stricken with the infinitive microcosm of his life. His hands shook and his steps were wobbly and unsteady. His vision doubled and tripled in turn.  


He aimed for the nearest building with a neon sign on the front and all but tumbled in the door. He was suddenly barraged with the screaming of an awful metal band.  


'I'm not even drunk enough to enjoy this,' he thought muddily. 

The place was reasonably filled and the lights were dimmed for the band. Tyler fought to stay upright as he pushed toward the bar. He fell onto a stool clumsily and held a hand up. After a minute, the metropunk bartender approached with a smile before he took in Tyler's sallow mug.  


"Hey," he shouted over the music, "what can I get you?"  


"Vodka!" Tyler yelled with a slur, "lots of it!"  
The barkeep stared him down for a moment before giving him a decisive, "nope."  


"What?!" Tyler exclaimed, "why?!"  


"You're wasted already, honey," the bartender said with a shrug before quickly turning and heading for the next patron.  


Tyler seethed. He was sick of this. Sick of his life. Sick of this gnawing, never-ending feeling. He stood and kicked the bar stool over. From there, he lead a path of apathetic disregard and destruction to the door. He stomped on toes and smacked drinks out of hand. He shoved and pushed and knocked things over til the only left to do was walk out the door.  


Tyler was done. In every sense of the word, he didn't want to live with his mistakes anymore and he didn't want to keep making them and he didn't want to be alone. Not with his thoughts. He sobbed anew at the thought as he came to yet another decision. A finite decision.  


"Hey, you jerk!" a voice called behind him. He didn't turn. It didn't matter to him anymore, he was already walking towards the busy street.  


"You splashed beer all over-" the person called before stopping short.  


"Hey, what are you doing?" the voice shouted growing closer as he neared the curb.  


"There's traffic! Stop!" they shouted.  


Then Tyler was crossing the intersection. Not looking, just walking. Two cars swerved to miss him, just barely. He came to a wobbly stop in the opposite lane and turned to face the oncoming headlights. As they grew closer he smiled, sighed and closed his eyes, his arms outstretched in contentment. He could hear the car now, brakes squealing in a hopeless endeavor to save him. Something hit him hard and it all went black.

×××

Babum. Babum. Babum. That's what Tyler's head felt like as he opened his eyes. He squinted bleary-eyed at an unfamiliar pastel purple carpet and plastic trashcan. He was hanging over the edge of some strange bed and worst of all, he thought, he was still alive.  


His throat felt like fire and if the trashcan full of vomit was anything to go by, he could guess why. There was a bottle of water and two tablets on the unfamiliar bedside table and Tyler grabbed the former and forced himself upright. He ripped the lid from it and drank and drank until he was coughing and feeling half sick.  
He forced himself to breath slowly. He stared down at his arms in his lap and realized that they were clean and that he was dressed in unfamiliar clothes. He grew a little worried. Someone cleared their throat a few feet away, in the room that Tyler had taken no time to examine.  


"Dude, you're finally awake," a man said with relief in his voice. Tyler jumped from the bed and turned to face them.  


He was met by a man with faded pink hair and eyes like weak coffee sitting in a chair next to the bed.  
He held up his hand in a conciliatory gesture and said in a soothing tone, "relax, relax."  
Tyler's brain was telling him to run but instead he asked in a voice he hardly recognized, "who are you?" 

It came out weak and scared sounding. He hated that. His anger with himself had tears bubbling from his eyes. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. He couldn't cry in front of a stranger.  


Before he could protest, there were arms wrapped around him tightly and his head was pressed against the slightly shorter man's shoulder. His first instinct was to pull away but then suddenly he couldn't remember the last time he'd been hugged since... and then he was crying. Bawling on this stranger's shoulder. Shaking hands clutched the man's shirt and he stood there solidly, making quiet 'shushing' noises and rubbing circles in Tyler's back.  


This went on for a few minutes until Tyler couldn't cry anymore.  
He cried out again, "who are you?" More a sob than a question.  
The pink haired stranger pulled back and his light mocha eyes locked onto Tyler's chocolate ones.  
"My name's Josh," he said with a sad smile, "I'm the one who pushed you out of the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this fic is extremely angsty but if you stick around you're in for a wild ride. I plan on this being a longfic. If you have comments or critiques or suggestions shoot me a comment. Feedback helps.  
> \- Abbey


	2. Trapdoor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeking artists to bring Tyler's paintings to life!  
> Also seeking editors and poets. If your poetry is used, a co-writer credit will be given!  
> Let me know if you're interested!
> 
> Sorry for the wait, guys. I want this story to be in depth and that takes a little time.  
> Next chapter may take some time due to working 7 days straight but it'll be here.  
> Thank everyone who bookmarked and commented and thank you for taking this ride with me!  
> ~Abbey

"That was you?" Tyler asked softly against Josh's shoulder.  


"Yup," the pink haired man stated plainly, he couldn't see his face but Tyler could hear pride in his voice. 

Tyler's blood was boiling, he felt entirely cheated. Like his destiny had been altered. He roughly shoved back from Josh. The shorter man's eyes widened with surprise.  


"What gave you the right?!" Tyler demanded his face growing hot.  


"T-to save you?" Josh inquired in a small voice that nearly made Tyler lose his train of thought.  


"To take my choice away from me!" Tyler spat. 

Josh's mouth fell agape for a moment as his dark haired counterpart seethed before him.  
Josh grew furious after an instant.  


"You know, a lot of people would grateful if someone saved them from becoming a grease stain on the road!" the pink haired man spouted.  


Tyler looked at Josh like he was the dumbest creature he'd ever laid eyes on.  


"You really think you saved me?" Tyler inquired softly, his throat burning, "you idiot, I didn't want to be saved!"  


Josh didn't look surprised, he looked pissed and determined, "I know."  


"So, what?" Tyler asked incredulously, "you thought it'd be a good idea if you brought a suicidal person home with you?! And did you change my clothes?"  


Josh blushed then, "I don't you believe in institutionalizing those who need help and... you smelled rank, dude. I swear I didn't look or anything. I had to hold you by the arm in the shower though."  


Tyler face burned as he stuttered for a response.  
"I-I... this is too weird even for me," Tyler stated quickly moving toward the door.  


"Dude, wait!" Josh called as Tyler fled past him, from the unfamiliar apartment.

×××

It took Tyler an hour and a half to find his way home, only to find his keys missing from his possession. He shrugged and grabbed a rock from the base of his stoop and shattered the window panel closest to the handle. He reached inside, knicking himself on the broken glass and let himself in. He wandered past the garbage, fell onto his filthy couch and dropped his head into his hands, wondering what the hell the pink haired stranger had hoped to accomplish and if he had truly expected him to be grateful for botching his suicide attempt.  


As he pondered, he felt an itch in the back of his brain. He didn't want to think, he wanted to drink and forget he'd met Josh but before he could stop himself, he was moving toward the discarded easel. He picked up the canvas he'd come to think of as the 'nightmare sundae' and tossed it carelessly across the living room.  


He pulled the easel into it's proper position and grabbed a blank canvas from against the wall and scooped up his paints from the floor.  
Suddenly, it was as if he were a man possessed. He skipped the brush and went straight to squeezing thick, black paint into his hands. At this point, to an outsider, Tyler would have appeared to be a mad man, dressed in a stranger's clothes, smearing black paint across the canvas, his tanned skin black to the elbows. Once the canvas was solidly covered, he stopped to smoke a cigarette and let the paint dry.  


As he stubbed the cigarette out on the already stained carpet, he retrieved his pallet and began covering it with yellows, oranges, blues, greens and pinks. He, then, grabbed a tube of white and squeezed a drop into each color before squeezing a huge glob of white by itself. He grabbed his largest paint brush and covered it in white. With very little thought, he began a large, bright circle in the middle of the now dark canvas. He couldn't help but smirk as the image in his brain poured from the brush. Once the circle was solid and complete with waves of white radiating from each side, he began mixing white into the colors on his pallet. The hues changed and became lighter and pastel-like. 

'Perfect,' he thought absently. 

Once the paints were mixed, he went into full auto pilot. He painted furiously, his arms oddly graceful in their circling and dancing. He hardly opened his eyes, letting the canvas whisper to him the way it hadn't, in so long. He was barely breathing. Each flick of his wrist was a heartbeat. Each brushstroke came natural like the blinking of an eye. Minutes and paint bled together until Tyler was euphoric and breathless.  


He hands shook and he dropped to the ground, laughing hysterically. He had created something. He had given a piece of his soul to the painting before him.  
He scuttled back to finally take in his work and what he saw made him feel hopeful.  


It was like the opposite of a black hole. It was an ethereal, inviting portal, distributing life and color in a vast empty space. Tyler for the life of him couldn't explain how such an overwhelmingly positive thing had come from him, of all people. He fell into laughter once again, for a moment before he was interrupted by knocking at the door.  


"Hello," an increasingly familiar voice called through the broken window panel.  


Tyler's heart sped up. Was it his brother back to berate him again? He almost hoped so, so he could show him the painting. He hopped to his feet and was surprised by how light he felt as he walked toward the entrance.  


The grim smirk fell as he opened the door to a frustrated fluff of pink hair.  


"Tyler?" He asked an enormous grin overtaking his flushed face, "thank God."  


"How the hell did you find me?" Tyler demanded almost fearfully, "did you follow me?"  


Josh chuckled then and reached into his back pocket. He pulled a familiar wallet and set of keys and pressed them into Tyler's hands, "you left before I could give you your things back. I looked at your I.D."  


"Oh," Tyler mumbled with relief, "thanks, I guess."  


It was then Josh noticed his paint coated flesh, "is that paint? What are you doing?"  


Despite himself Tyler became excited. Josh looked a little afraid when Tyler donned a sloppy smile and ushered him inside his dirty house.  


Tyler didn't care to see the shorter man's reaction to the mess so he walked quickly ahead, assuming Josh would just follow. For some reason, he wanted this near stranger to see his work even if he didn't understand or care. He stopped in front of the painting and waited for Josh.  


The pink haired man stepped beside him and gasped.  


"You painted this?" Josh asked, awe in his voice. Tyler nodded as Josh stared at the canvas. He tried to see what Josh might make of the streams of glowing pastels in contrast to the darkness.  


After a moment, Josh whispered, "it's beautiful.  


Tyler tried not seem too pleased to hear it.  


"It's like a physical manifestation of hope," the fuchsia haired man began, "but I gotta ask... is it me?"  


"Is it, " Tyler stuttered, his eyes wide, "is it you? Why would it be? "  


"I don't know how to explain it," Josh said apologetically, "it feels familiar. "  


"Smug much?" Tyler scoffed, "it just came to me when I got here."  


It was then Josh took a moment to look around the dilapidated house. Tyler accepted an inevitable look of disgust but what he didn't expect was the sharp toothed smile and determined nod, he'd gotten.  


"What do you say I clean this place up, a little?" Josh inquired, startling Tyler despite his soft tone.  


"What the hell for?" Tyler expelled incredulously.  


"Because you did something great and you deserve a little help," Josh stated simply.  


"What?" Tyler was confused, "trying to kill myself?"  


Josh laughed and placed a hand on Tyler's slim shoulder, "you shared a beautiful piece of artwork with me and I feel inclined to do something for you in return."  


Tyler felt bashful, "it's not that big a deal but if you want to."  


Josh released his shoulder and turned to assess the situation.  


Ty's insides felt all squishy and for the the sake of maintaining his image of apathy, he gruffly added, "don't expect me to help, though."  


For the next two hours Josh was practically a pink haired blur as he raced around the house picking up discarded bottles and cigarette packs, sweeping up broken glass, vacuuming up cigarette butts and a million other things while Tyler watched from the couch in a daze.  


Josh essentially ignored him save for occasionally asking where certain cleaning products might be, then again, when he found his ruined painting from the night before.  


Suddenly, Josh had begun to giggle.  


"What's funny?" Ty asked staring at the man bent over behind his recliner. 

Josh stood holding the painting, "what is this?"  


"Oh, that's... it's garbage," Tyler said ducking his head.  


"Did you throw up on it?" Josh questioned, a curious smile on his face.  


"Yeah... it's the 'N-Nightmare Sundae, " Ty muttered. Josh slapped his thigh, laughing and leaned it back against the wall.  


"I like that, " Josh told him earnestly with a grin and moved on. Tyler shook his head in awe of his strange counterpart.  


Before long, Tyler hardly recognized the place. It was cleaner and smelled fresher than it had for the better part of a year. Now, Josh was pulling crusty, dirty clothes into a laundry basket.  


"I'm sorry, man but this is pretty gross, " Josh said holding a vomit encrusted shirt at arms length.  


"Yeah," Tyler grunted, "I know."  


By this point, his hands were shaking with withdrawls. Josh looked at him,concern in his coffee colored eyes.  


"Do you have any quarters?" Josh asked tentatively.  


Tyler nodded toward a jar on top of the defunct TV set. Josh walked over and sifted though it, coming away with a handful of change.  


"I'm gonna head to the laundromat," Josh told him, dumping the quarters into his pocket and grabbing the basket, "wanna come with?"  


Tyler shook his head, staring down at his feet. "Okay," Josh said with a shrug, "I'll be back soon." 

With that, he was out the door leaving Tyler with his thoughts. His brain was already scheming on how to get his next drink. Then, he was pacing. Then he was delving into the dark of his imagination, picturing how he could trick his family and worse.  


Soon, he was on the floor cradling his head, begging the evil temptations to go away and there he remained until all light had faded from the room and his mind.  


It was there Josh found him. He dropped the basket and three paper bags inside the doorway and ran to Tyler's side.  
Tyler's eyes were squeezed shut as Josh pulled him upright.  


"Tyler," Josh pleaded, "are you okay?!"  


Tyler squinted up at the pink haired man, "Need. Vodka."  


Josh's glance softened as he pulled the ragged man to his feet and helped him to the couch. He moved towards the bags on the floor.  
He pulled a bottle of Absolut from one and placed it in Tyler's hands.  


"I don't want to enable you but I didn't want you to be in pain either, " Josh admitted, "take it easy with it."  


"T-thank you, " Tyler spouted in surprise.  


Josh and looked as though he wasn't exactly proud of himself.  


"Are you hungry?" Josh probed, avoiding Tyler's eyes. 

As if on cue, Tyler's stomach growled furiously. Josh gave a chuckle and patted Tyler's knee.  


"How about you have a drink, grab a shower and I'll cook us something," Josh suggested running his fingers through pink fluff.  


Tyler nodded and Josh crossed the room, picked up the bags and headed for the kitchen.  


"J-Josh," Tyler called after him. Josh turned curiosity on his face.  


"Why are you doing this?"  


Josh looked confused and thoughtful before answering definitively, "everything happens for a reason." 

That answer left Tyler no less confused but grateful, nonetheless. No one had cared this much about his wellbeing since...  
He uncapped the bottle, right as Josh dropped a styrofoam cup in front of his on the coffee table.  


"Don't drink straight from the bottle," he commanded and left the room. 

Tyler rolled his eyes but poured 3 or 4 fingers worth into the cup and screwed the lid back on.  
His body relaxed with the first sip. It was much better stuff than Tyler usually drank and he forced himself to savor it. Once the glass was gone, he fought the urge to have another and stood to dig through the laundry basket for a towel.  


He spied Josh watching him cautiously as he passed the kitchen on his way to the bathroom.  
As he undressed and turned on the water, he had to admit it felt quite nice to have someone there, who cared.  


When he stepped, clean, from the bathroom, towel around his waist, he was hit with a delicious scent wafting from the kitchen. He followed the smell to the kitchen door and lean against the frame. 

"That smells pretty good," Tyler complimented, startling Josh, "what is it?" 

Josh froze as he took in Tyler's damp, tattooed body. Tyler could practically feel his eyes grazing ever inch exposed. His face suddenly felt hot. Josh caught himself and met Tyler's glance, crinkles around his brown eyes. 

"Just chicken soup and grilled cheese. Ya know, comfort food," Josh said his voice a little thick, "it's nearly ready, if you want to go get dressed, it should be done by then." 

Tyler nodded and excused himself to grab clothes. As he stepped into the bathroom to dress, he fought the urge, for the second time that day, to be happy about Josh's reaction.  


The kitchen was empty when Tyler returned, save for some dirty dishes.  
Josh called him from the living room. There were two plates and two bowls on each side of the coffee table. Josh sat on the floor dipping a half of a sandwich in his soup.  


"I started without you," Josh told him with a mouth full of food, "I hope you don't mind. I'm starving."  


Tyler laughed to Josh's apparent delight and shrugged it off as he took his place on the couch.  


They ate in comfortable slience for a few minute before Tyler whispered, "Thanks, Josh."  


"It's nothing, really," Josh told him fishing noodles from his bowl, "I had a free day today."  


"From what?" Tyler inquired. He had to admit he was increasingly curious about the generous man before him.  


"I'm a teaching assistant," Josh explained, seeming somewhat uncomfortable talking about himself, "I want to be an english teacher, someday, soon." 

Tyler was somewhat shocked. He couldn't picture Josh in a classroom explaining the metaphors of the coming of age tale, The Catcher in the Rye to a bunch of snot nosed kids but he was impressed nonetheless.  


"But my true passion," Josh told him in a conspiratorial tone, "is poetry."  


"Poetry, eh?" Tyler probed, "writing it or...?"  


"Yeah, I write fairly regularly," Josh told him soaking up the last of his soup with his sandwich.  


"You any good?" Tyler asked dusting crumbs from his hands.  


"I wouldn't know," Josh conspired, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "I've never shown anyone."  


"I'd like to see it some time," Tyler said before he could stop himself, "you know... if you want to show me." 

He felt the urge to slap a hand over his mouth but resisted. Josh was practically a stranger and Tyler had just invited him to have a longstanding position in his life.  


Josh beamed though and for whatever reason Tyler was glad he offered.  


"That would be great," the shorter man all but shouted. Josh stood suddenly and began to gather the dishes. 

He moved toward the kitchen but stopped short in the door way. He glanced at Tyler over his shoulder with an infallible grin, "there are a few things I want to do but then I should probably head home. I have class tomorrow."  


"Oh.Yeah, okay," Tyler muttered feeling a surprising pang of upset. He picked up the little white cup and filled it with vodka. He took a gulp and slouched into the couch. After a moment Josh came out and dug through the laundry basket and disappeared with his arms full of bed clothes.  


Then he was standing in the door, smiling. Always smiling at Tyler, it seemed.  


"Wanna walk me out?" Josh asked almost nervous.  
Tyler stood quicker than he knew he could. Josh turned and headed for the door as Tyler neared. He opened the door and stepped through the threshold and rotated to stare into Tyler's chocolate eyes. A few moments passed before Tyler cleared his throat and dropped his gaze, "thanks, Josh."  


"You're welcome, Tyler," Josh whispered glancing at the shattered door panel, "what happened there?"  


Tyler chuckled and shrugged, "I didn't have my keys."  


"I'll fix that, next time," Joshua told him with a chirp of laughter, "if it's okay for me to come back, that is."  


"I-I'd like that, I think," Tyler admitted scratching his beard.  


"Can you promise me something?" Josh inquired suddenly serious.  


"Um... okay," Tyler acquiesced reluctantly.  


"Please try to moderating your drinking," Josh pleaded coffee colored eyes glistening, "I'm not asking you to stop but just try to hold back, just a little... for me."  


Tyler was taken aback but nonetheless found himself agreeing and the bright smile he received in return made that seem okay for now.  


Then Josh was gone and Tyler was finishing his drink and crawling into a freshly made bed. He couldn't say what gave him the peace of mind to rest without being smashed drunk but sure enough, he slipped down into the quiet abyss of sleep. He dreamed of pale skin and freckles and pink hair.


	3. Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting!  
> Send me any mistakes you find and as always, comments, critiques and suggestions are appreciated.  
> ~ Abbey

The sun was still down when Tyler woke, the alarm that Josh had plugged in and set told him it was 6:17 a.m. His brain felt oddly clear and he was shocked that he didn't have a headache, whatsoever. He stifled a yawn as he sat up and walked into the now spotless en suite bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and found that his eyes weren't bloodshot and save for the scraggly beard, he almost looked human.  
He slid open a drawer and pulled out an electric razor and went to work.  


When he was finished, all that was left was prickling stubble. He rubbed a hand across his jaw in assessment before nodding to himself in reluctant approval. He considered a moment before deciding to brush his teeth. He didn't understand his own compulsions and he questioned his motives as he made his way into the living room to retrieve the liquor. He poured himself a cupful but as an afterthought, walked toward the kitchen. He was surprised to find when he opened the refrigerator that there was some cheese, lunch meat, fruit and milk in the door. In a cabinet he found a box of frosted flakes and some chips. He settled on a bowl of cereal for now and moved to sit in the living room. As he ate, he wondered if Josh was awake and he wondered if Madison was doing okay in school and if his brothers hated him for what he'd become.  


He groaned and finished his cup of vodka. He grabbed his bowl and carried it into the kitchen. He couldn't explain how accomplished he felt as he washed his bowl and spoon and placed them in the strainer.  


‘Look at me,’ he thought with amusement, ‘I'm practically a person.’  


He found himself wandering to his bedroom and digging a notebook from his cluttered bedside drawer. He wanted to recreate that feeling he had yesterday.  


So that’s how Tyler ended up sitting on the floor, pen in hand, furious and discombobulated. Nothing was coming to him. Black scribbles covered the page but no images formed in his mind and no inspiration came. He fought the urge to drink his desperation away but he only allowed himself one more styrofoam cup full. He reasoned that he had been mostly sober when he had painted yesterday but Josh's words also hung in the back of his head like a lead blanket.  


Hours passed and crumpled drawings piled in front him. He felt hopeless. He tried to map the equation which lead to the mysterious painting, which mocked him now. He remembered being angry. He had almost died the night before. 

‘Perhaps that was the ticket,’ Tyler thought for a moment before shaking his head clear, picking himself from the floor. 

His spine cracked as he arranged his gangly arms over his head in a stretch. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was emotionally exhausted and utterly depleted of effort to create. He slumped over on the couch and squeezed his strained eyes shut. Consciousness left him soon after. 

×××

_Tyler was running faster than he ever had through a forest. The shadowy figure in front of him was constantly just outside his grasp,_  


_“Please come back!” he screamed but it came out like a whisper in hurricane force winds. The dark creature turned it’s head as if he heard him but laughed silently and kept avoiding his outstretched arms. He was gaining ground but not enough. Tree limbs slapped and cut his face and his body burned but he couldn't stop. He was so close. There was a break of light at the edge of the tree line.  
_

_Then he was following the creature off the side of a cliff. It was like a Looney Tunes cartoon. He wind milled his arms to no avail and then he was plummeting. Air left his lungs in the form of terrified shrieks and he free fell. The ground was 20 feet away._  


_10 feet._  
  
_5 feet._  
  
_1 foot.  
_

Tyler shot upright with a yelp, sending Josh flying back, startled.  
Tyler was holding his chest as his heart beat out of control.  


“Josh,” he breathed, gasping between words, “what are you doing here?”  


Josh’s eyes were the size of saucers, as he stood dumbstruck on the other side of the table.  


After a moment, he replied in almost a whisper, “I came to fix the window but you didn't answer when I knocked and there were groceries on the porch, so I came in to check on you and you were asleep and I didn't want to wake you but then while I was working on the window, you started screaming.”  


Tyler reached for the bottle of vodka and poured a cupful as Josh explained.  


“You're rambling,” Tyler informed him before consuming everything he had poured.  


“I'm sorry,” Josh murmured stepping towards his weedy counterpart, “but I've never seen anything like that in my life.”  


“It was just a bad dream,” Tyler grumbled, decanting yet another drink.  


Josh moved and sat beside him on the couch, “if it was just a bad dream why is it driving you to drink?”  


Tyler drank half the cup, trying to hide that his hands were shaking like jello in an earthquake. Josh noticed regardless and encircled Tyler’s wrist in his gentle hand.  


“Tyler,” Josh inquired compassionately, "what was your dream about?"  


Tyler pushed the name from his spinning mind and ripped his arm from Josh's hand.  


"I don't want to talk about it," Tyler cried woefully.  
He cradled his head his hands and begged tearfully, "please don't make me talk about it, Josh!" 

Abruptly, the pink haired man had Tyler's head tucked under his chin. 

Tyler wanted to pull away but then Josh murmured, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," and then he was soaking Josh's T-shirt with tears. Clinging to Josh as though he were a life preserver in a rapid river current. He was practically in his lap, his fingers fisted into Josh's shirt.  


"Shhh. I'm here, Ty," Josh soothed, stroking the back of Tyler's neck.  


"I still don't understand w-why," Tyler stuttered into Josh's firm chest, "I-I'm just a drunken invalid. I can't do anything for you."  


"You don't have to," Josh sighed into his hair, "I'm here because I want to be. I like you, Tyler." 

Tyler decided not to explore the context of that statement for now but he felt a little better for having heard that Josh wasn't just there because felt bad for Tyler, not now at least. They were quiet for a minute. Tyler was no longer in tears but neither of them made to move away from their huddled position on the couch.  


Josh pulled back slightly to look at the brunette man in his arms, "let's get out of here."  


"What do you mean?" Tyler asked resisting the urge to nuzzle back into the crook of Josh's neck.  


"Let's get you out of the house," Josh explained sedately, "I want to take you to my favorite place."  


"O-okay," Tyler agreed with a sniffle. Josh stood then and Tyler couldn't deny his disappointment at the separation. 

He watched as Josh sorted through the laundry he'd done and threw him a pair of pants, boxers and a paint stained white T-shirt.  


"I'm going to finish up this window," Josh told him, nodding toward the door, "get dressed. This'll only take a minute." 

He waited until Josh's pink hair was out of sight and quickly stripped nude. He couldn't put his finger on why his skin felt hot for having been naked with Josh in the next room. He'd played basketball in high school and undressed and showered near other boys in the locker room but he'd never thought about it. He pulled clean clothes on as quickly as possible and stood to grab socks from the basket. As he sat on the edge of the table pulling socks onto his feet, yesterday's clothes balled under his arm, he tried to pull the remnants of his nightmare from his mind.  


He was quite curious about where Josh might take him. He was a surprising kind of person. Empathetic and charitable, probably to a fault but also stubborn and determined.  
Tyler wondered what other shades lie under that pastel hair.  


He met Josh in the hallway carrying a box full of bubble wrap in one hand and Tyler's tattered vans in the other. Tyler gratefully accepted his shoes as Josh stepped into the kitchen and dropped the packaging in the trash.  
Then he was looking Tyler in the eyes as if assessing his soul.  


"You got your keys?" Josh asked with a hesitant grin, "I'd rather you not break the window, again." 

Tyler peered at the scabs on his left wrist and advanced to grab his keys from the table. He stared at the dregs of vodka left in the bottle.  


After a moment Josh directed, "Leave it."  


Tyler admired Josh's work on the way out. Josh had quite a few talents, it seemed.  
They started down the street to a blue Honda Civic. Josh pulled keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. He motioned for Tyler to get in.  


The car was spotless and smelled like cherries.  


"Where we going?" Tyler muttered chewing absently on his thumbnail.  


Josh patted his knee and turned the key in the ignition, "it's a surprise."  


Tyler was startled by his own laughter as he pronounced, "everything is with you." Josh smiled fiercely and pulled away from the curb.

xxx

They drove in silence for at least 20 minutes. Tyler was oddly engrossed, watching Josh out of the corner of his eye. The way the sunbeams hit his eyes, revealing flecks of green and gold in his light brown eyes magnetized Tyler completely. He finally scolded himself into looking ahead. What he saw set his jaw in a grimace and his heart pounding with fear. They were surrounded with trees. It was early afternoon so far as Tyler could tell but the engulfing forest seemed dark and ominous in his eyes.  


Subsequently, Josh was turning down a narrow, gravel road plunging them even deeper into the forbidding foliage. Tyler tried to control his erratic breathing but as they pulled of the side of the road Josh turned, searching his face.  


"Tyler," he spoke cautiously, "what's wrong?"  


"Is...Is this where we're going?" Tyler stammered, tears burning his eyes.  


"Yes," Josh started, "I thought it might help you re-"  


Tyler cut him off in an imploring tone, "I can't go in there, Josh!"  


By the time Tyler was finished, Josh had unbuckled himself and grasped his shoulders.  


Tyler was scrutinizing his trembling hands, whispering, "I can't, I can't, I can't."  


"Tyler," Josh bid, "look at me." 

And the lunacy Josh saw when Tyler met his eyes was enough to tear him up but he hardened his voice.  


"I don't know what's holding you back," Josh began his brown eyes peering into Tyler's, "but you can get through this... and you don't have to be alone." 

Tyler gawked at him a moment before nodding.  


Thereupon, Josh was leading Tyler through the woods, an arm draped gently around his shoulders. Tyler was hyperventilating but his grip on Josh’s solid waist helped to keep him from curling in a ball amongst the trees. The crunchy leaves beneath his feet had once been something Tyler had truly loved about Fall but now they just brought back memories he couldn't bear to live with. Couldn't bear to even think of. He asked himself what in his right mind he was doing here. The only explaination he could find was the pink haired man with whom he'd had more physical contact in two days than the last year with anyone.  


He squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, " distract me, Josh... Tell me about your family."  


Josh stopped short for a moment.  


"Well," Josh began, "I'm the oldest of four."  


"Boys? Girls? Both?” Tyler inquired in a strained voice.  


"Both," Josh explained, guiding Tyler over a fallen tree, "one brother, two sisters. Jordan, Ashley, Abbie."  


Tyler tittered softly, “nice name scheme... What about your parents? What are they like?"  


This was working, Tyler could feel Josh slowing and he could hear the sound of rushing water.  


"They're great. Normal. Embarrassing," the pink haired man elucidated with a snicker.  


"Good," Tyler murmured following Josh's lead and the sound of the current.  


"We're here," Josh breathed, slipping his arm from Tyler's shoulders.  


The brown haired man forced his eyes open, he was glad he did.  


Before them was a small creek bed burbling over a small rock wall. Josh moved to sit on a stump at the water's edge and Tyler followed reluctantly. He sat down next to Josh, peering down into the shallow water.  


"This is my favorite place," Josh explained dropping a hand on Tyler's knee, "it's where I come to think. I don't usually bring people here."  


"Yet here I am," Tyler uttered with a small laugh.  


"Yeah, I know," Josh conceded, "I just wanted to share this with you for some reason." 

Things were quiet then. The only sounds, the water breaking on the rocks, the last of the summer cicadas and their breathing.  


"What about you?" Josh probed suddenly,  


"What?" Tyler replied, confused.  


"What about your family?” Josh queried uncertainly.  


"Oh," Tyler grumbled, "They're perfect. All of them." 

He chuckled bitterly.  


"What do you mean?” Josh examined, running a hand through his hair.  


"Parents are both doctors. Younger brother's in medical school. Youngest brother is premed. Sister is in her first year of law school," Tyler lamented, dragging a hand over his stubbly face.  


Josh noticed the gesture and smiled, "I meant to tell you earlier... You clean up pretty nice." 

Tyler's cheeks reddened as he mumbled a, "Thanks."  


Josh stood suddenly and began fishing through his pockets. He pulled a plastic cigarette case and a cheap lighter from his pocket. He opened the case and placed it's contents to his lips. He struck the lighter and lit the end.  


Tyler's eyes widened in stupefaction as Josh took a deep draw and began to cough.  


"Is that a joint?" Tyler questioned quizzically, "are you smoking a joint, right now?"  


Josh chuckled at his reaction and gave a nod of ascent.  


"I'd have never thought," Tyler confessed with an amused smile.  


"There's a lot about me, you don't know yet," Josh laughed, his voice thick with smoke, "besides it's better than some vices." 

Tyler thought at first that that comment were directed toward him but if Josh's suddenly avoidant gaze was anything to go on, there was indeed more to the man beside him than Tyler knew.  


Josh held the joint towards Tyler and he took it without question. They passed it back and forth, silent except the occasional cough.  
Tyler couldn't say the last time he'd been high but as he and Josh stumbled toward the car, he guessed it had been quite some time. The trees around him left him feeling somewhat paranoid but he felt stable enough, so long as he didn't look up. Tyler decided pot might be a valuable tool.  


Josh seemed giggly and distracted compared to his usual self. Tyler liked this carefree side. He desired to see it more often.  


'That might require you have less mental breakdowns,' he reminded himself bitterly.  


Stranger than that thought to Tyler, was the fact that in less than 3 days he'd already began to consider Josh a friend. He wondered if that was okay.  


"I know this was hard for you," Josh started, his eyes bloodshot exacerbating the green flecks in his pupils, "but I'm glad we d-"  


All at once, Josh tripped over the fallen log, he'd directed Tyler over previously. He fell with a hard thump. Tyler was scared, then. He dropped to his knees beside the pink haired man. Josh was already pushing himself from the ground.  


"Are you alright?" Tyler demanded, disquieted by the sight.  


"Ow," was all Josh said before he began to giggle.  


"Are you hurt?” Tyler probed, grabbing Josh’s muscular shoulder. Josh rolled up his pant leg to reveal angry looking scrape on his knee.  


"Let's get back to my house," Tyler decreed, examining Josh's knee, "I think I have a first aid kit somewhere."  


Josh looked down at Tyler, a pout on his lips.  


"What?" Tyler asked pulling Josh's pants leg down and standing.  


"I'm hungry," Josh all but whined.  
Tyler snorted with mirth and rolled his eyes, "come on."  


And that's how Josh and Tyler wound up back at the house, Josh cringing as Tyler disinfected his knee.  


"It's only peroxide," Tyler scolded playfully, "don't be such a baby." 

He reached for the triple antibiotic and squeezed a glob onto the inside of the band aid and pressed it to Josh's scrape.  


"So, your brothers aren't the only ones with medical skills, eh?" Josh said sounding impressed as Tyler closed the first aid kit and sat beside him on the couch.  


"Psh," Tyler spoke with a chuckle, "that is basic first aid. A monkey could do it."  


Josh rolled his coffee eyes, just as his stomach groaned Ioudly.  


He smiled almost guiltily then, "wanna get a pizza?"  


Soon, they were shoulder to shoulder on the couch, Josh expressing the woes of tutoring freshmen on Iambic pentameter between bites of pepperoni pizza. Tyler couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard or felt this comfortable in another's presence.  


"And I told her, 'Shakespeare was making your mama jokes before yo mama existed,' " Josh quipped, beaming. 

Tyler was red in the face with laughter as Josh stood and grabbed their now empty plates and pizza box. He left Tyler to head to the kitchen. He came back, a shy smirk playing on the lips Tyler was becoming increasingly attentive to. He nodded towards the door and Tyler sighed internally and followed after him reluctantly.  


Josh opened the front door and turned to face Tyler.  


"This was fun," Josh told him his white teeth showing in an earnest grin.  


"It was," Tyler admitted with surprise.  
Josh shocked them both by taking Tyler's hand in his own.  


"I'll see you tomorrow?" Josh inquired his cheeks nearly matching his hair color.  


"Yeah," Tyler assented staring at he and Josh's intertwined hands. 

Josh hesitantly pulled his hand away and turned away. Tyler stood peering at his increasingly shaking hand, as his counterpart walked away.  


His brain was itching. Images were pooling behind his eyes as he all but ran to his easel. He delicately removed the painting and grabbed another canvas. Before he knew what he was doing he hand was flying over the white space.  


First, came a dark forest, a translucent blue pool in the center. Then, a sky full of cotton candy clouds.  
Last, came a pair of magnetizing brown eyes flecked with green and gold. As Tyler fell into bed exhausted and practically sober, there was no denying who the eyes belonged to. He dreamed of Josh, that night.


	4. Addict with a Pen

Tyler woke the next morning, sober as could be. The alarm clock read 9:18 a.m. He'd painted to the point of exhaustion, the night before but he felt good for it. In fact, he felt pretty good, overall despite his addiction pinching at the edges of his mind. But as he took in his hands, stained a familiar pink, he grinned and ignored the urge to drink, in favor of a shower.  


He stripped as he crossed the room depositing his clothes in a hamper inside the bathroom. As he looked upon his naked reflection in the mirror, he was surprised to find he wasn't entirely ashamed of what he saw.  


In just a couple days, he had picked up a few pounds, gotten some sun on his face and arms and his eyes weren't the lackluster, alcohol deadened brown he was used to. Finally, he used brushing his teeth as an excuse not to look at himself and slipped into the shower.  


As the warm water cascaded over his way-too-long hair, Tyler was hit with yesterday's memory of undressing in the next room over from Josh and, for some reason, couldn't move past it. All of the sudden, he was imagining undressing for Josh. He imagined kissing his perpetually smiling lips and running his hands through his pastel hair. He was shocked to find he had an erection at the thought and tried to scold the thoughts away but as he washed his body, he couldn't help imagining it were Josh's gentle fingers caressing his skin. His hand wrapped around his cock. Before the shame could come, he was cumming, Josh's name whispered among a stifled moan.  


The shame came after in the form of Tyler hyperventilating on the floor of the shower until the water ran cold.  


He pried himself from the shower and slinked naked and wet to the living room. He reused the same cup Josh had placed in front of him days ago and filled it with the rest of the vodka. He drank it in three gulps and dropped his dripping body on to the couch and fell into blissfully dreamless sleep.

xxx

"Oh my God," Tyler heard as he woke for the second time, this time to Josh throwing a towel over him.  


Tyler shot upright and wrapped himself in the towel, while Josh faced the wall.  


"You know," Tyler grumbled, "you have a very bad habit of letting yourself in... it's safe now."  


Josh turned at that, his face flushed. Tyler wondered how much he'd seen. His face burned even hotter as he remembered his shower.  


Josh scrunched his nose, "Yeah and you have a bad habit of leaving your door unlocked and sleeping all day." 

Tyler couldn't call him a liar. Sleep was taking up a lot of his time these days.  


"I need your help carrying some stuff," Josh added, "get dressed." 

Tyler rolled his eyes as Josh sauntered from the room but moved toward the laundry basket.  


He met Josh at his car. The first thing Josh did was shove a 13" TV/DVD combo into Tyler's arms. He gave Tyler a gentle shove on the lower back and bent down to grab some bags.  


Once inside, Tyler stood in the hallway unsure what to do. Josh stopped short when he saw him.  


"What are you doing?" the shorter man inquired with amusement.  


"Wondering where you want me put this?" Tyler explained, feeling awkward, "the outlets in the living room are fried."  


Josh looked thoughtful before giving a shrug, "that's a project for another day. What about the bedroom?"  


It was Tyler's turn to give a noncommittal gesture, "they should be fine."  


Josh grinned with renewed vigor and pushed past Tyler into his bland sleeping quarters.  


Tyler trailed after him as he sat two different sized bags on the floor. He took the TV from Tyler and placed it on the low dresser.  


"What is all this stuff?" Tyler probed, trying not to gawk as Josh bent over the dresser to plug in the television. He didn't succeed.  


Josh was quiet until he was finished and gave Tyler a puzzled expression as he took in his pink cheeks.  


"Well, you mentioned you'd never seen Star Wars, last night," Josh said fishing a remote and a DVD from the larger bag, "so I figured we could watch episode IV, have a couple beers and get a little high. There was some stuff to make spaghetti in the groceries I put away yesterday. I can make us some dinner later, too." 

All the while, Tyler was dumbstruck. Josh wanted drink beer and watch movies with him. In bed.  


He sat down hard on the edge of the mattress.  
"Does that sound okay?" Josh asked scanning Tyler's face. 

Tyler just scooted further onto the bed, leaned against the headboard and nodded.  


Josh smirked, placed the disk in the player, handed a beer for them each to Tyler and went to put the rest way. Tyler stared at the TV as the previews played but he couldn't have told you for a million dollars what they were about. He was consumed with the thought of sharing his bed with Josh.  


Then Josh was back and crawling into bed next to Tyler. Tyler's mouth went dry as Josh sat close enough for their arms to touch. He opened each beer and handed one to his counterpart. He took a sip and sat it on the bedside table. Josh followed suit and pressed play on the remote.  


Obi-wan Kenobi had just introduced himself to Luke Skywalker and Tyler could hardly focus on any of it. That small point of contact was enough to completely distract him and rouse a longing for more. Every now and then he'd catch Josh glancing at him from his eye but he wasn't sure whether or not he was just gauging his reaction to the film.  


He traced the curve of Josh's ear with his eyes and was plagued with the thoughts of planting soft kisses just below it.  


Soon, his skin felt almost itchy with the urge to touch and be touched by Josh, in some way. He found himself slouching down and leaning against Josh's warm, broad shoulder. He stiffened waiting for Josh's reaction. The pink haired man's breathing stopped short for a moment before he gave a quiet hum of contentment and wrapped his arm around Tyler's waist. He pulled Tyler snuggly against him and fit his chin into the hollow of Tyler's shoulder. Tyler sighed in relief, audibly earning a small squeeze from Josh. Neither of them said a word.  


Finally, Luke and Han Solo were being presented with medals and the credits were rolling. Tyler wasn't all that impressed but after seeing the joy on Josh's face, he knew he'd sit through the entire series just to make Josh happy. Josh clapped a little and scooted from behind Tyler. He stood and stretched revealing the toned V of his hips.  


'Don't stare. Don't stare. Don't stare,' Tyler told himself. He was staring. Josh caught his eyes and beamed.  


"You hungry?" Josh asked, a little red in the cheeks.  


Tyler's brain said, 'not for food,' but his mouth simply spoke, "I could eat."  


A few minutes later, he was leaned against the door frame watching Josh buzz around the kitchen, dumping noodles and sauce into pots.  


"I meant to ask," Josh began, stirring pasta water into the marinara, "how are you getting groceries delivered? I've looked, no place around here does it."  


"Oh," Tyler muttered, "that was probably my mom."  


"Why didn't she come in?" Josh inquired, setting the oven to preheat.  


"Well," Tyler started, "they've kind of disowned me."  


Josh's eyes widened, "why?"  


Tyler snorted indignantly, "my lifestyle isn't exactly exemplary."  


"You're doing okay," Josh told him hopefully, adding salt to the noodles, "you've got this place and you're a pretty awesome painter."  


Tyler scratched his neck in chagrin, "actually in a couple months I won't have this place, either."  


They were both startled by the beeping oven indicating it was preheated.  


Josh looked worried as he pulled garlic bread from the freezer, "what do you mean?"  


"Well," Tyler explained, avoiding Josh's eyes, "my dad pays for it and after next month, it's on me."  


"Hmm," Josh said placing the bread on a baking pan, "we've gotta find you a job.''  


"Oh yeah," Tyler grumbled, rolling his eyes, "lots of great jobs out there for an art school dropout."  


Josh placed the pan in the oven and gave Tyler a tut, "we'll figure something out."  


Tyler had his doubts but hearing Josh unifying them in his words gave him a strange sense of reassurance.  


Shortly after, they sat in the living room, eating and making companionable conversation. They were learning a lot about each other, quickly. Tyler had learned that Josh had grown up just a few blocks from his place and that he had briefly played basketball on his High School's rival team. It was hard for Tyler to wrap his head around how they managed to grow up 20 miles apart and never meet. Though, his friend group had never been very big. He shook the name from head, yet again.  


Then, Josh's eyes became focused on the sheet covering the easel.  


"What is that?" Josh asked with contained excitement, "is it a new painting?"  


"Yeah," Tyler said bashfully, "want to see?" Josh was already crossing the room.  


He delicately removed the sheet and stood frozen, his back to Tyler.  


He glanced over his shoulder then back at the painting. He was a statue for a solid minute, his back ridged and barely moving with breath. Then he was practically running to Tyler. Tyler's eyes widened as Josh pulled him from his seat by the collar.  


"Josh, what are y-" Tyler began before Josh's lips were pressed to his. 

It was like volts of electricity were coursing over the surface of his skin. His eyes fluttered closed before he could stop himself. It took everything he had not to kiss back. He wanted to kiss him back very badly, indeed but a savage feeling of traitorousness stopped him in his tracks, leaving him frozen.  


Josh pulled away cautiously, a disappointed frown on his face. Tyler hated that frown. 

He wanted to kiss it away but instead, "w-why did you do that?" Tyler questioned dumbly.  


"I-I don't know," Josh conceded in a small voice.  


"I mean," Tyler started, despising every word he was about to say, "I'm really glad that you like it but that probably shouldn't happen again."  


Josh just stared at his socked feet, "I don't know what I was thinking."  


Tyler absolutely loathed himself, at this point.  


Josh stood suddenly, muttering quickly, "be right back."  


Tyler was left to wonder why he was such idiot. The name swirled at the edge of his brain like a taunt. Tyler shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, fighting the thirst for hard liquor.  


Josh dropped a notebook in front of him, then. It was already opened to a page covered in spidery writing. It was titled 'Addict with a Pen.'  


"What's this?" Tyler questioned, looking in Josh's sad, brown eyes.  


"It's my poetry," Josh whispered, dropping on to the couch.  


With this information, Tyler began to read almost hungrily. What he beheld nearly brought him to tears.

_'I try desperately to run through the sand_  
_As I hold the water_  
_In the palm of my hand_  
_Cause it's all that I have_  
_And it's all that I need and_  
_The waves of the water_  
_Mean nothing to me_  
_But I try my best_  
_And all that I can to_  
_Hold tightly onto_  
_What's left in my hand_  
_But no matter how_  
_How tightly I will strain_  
_The sand will slow me down_  
_And the water will drain_  
_I'm just being dramatic_  
_In fact,_  
_I'm only at it again_  
_As an addict with a pen_  
_Who's addicted to the wind_  
_As it blows me back and forth_  
_Mindless, spineless, and pretend_  
_Of course I'll be here again_  
_See you tomorrow_  
_But it's the end of today_  
_End of my ways_  
_As a walking denial_  
_My trial was filed as a crazy_  
_Suicidal head case_  
_But you specialize in dying_  
_You hear me screaming_  
_Father_  
_And I'm lying here just crying  
_ _So wash me with your water.'_

 

Tyler was breathless, he had never suspected so much pain resided behind the eyes of his pink haired counterpart. I spoke as both a prayer and a desecration. But it invoked a loneliness that Tyler was all too familiar with. He felt the frustrations toward the seemingly futile endeavors life is compiled of.  


He desperately wanted to go to Josh and soothe away the fears that plagued his brain... but he didn't.  


He merely told Josh, awe in his voice, "you're brilliant!"  


Josh rolled his eyes and asked with a shy smile, "wanna watch episode V and drink another beer?"  


Tyler felt he'd been granted another chance as he closed the notebook and handed it to it's owner.  


"Your poetry was beautiful," Tyler told Josh once they were back in bed, "like seriously, mind-blowing."  


"Your painting was lovely," Josh began to explain as he hit the play button on the remote, "I'm sorry I-"  


"Don't you apologize," Tyler scolded, pressing closer to him. Josh pulled him back against his chest with a nod.  


Tyler couldn't say when Josh had dozed, with his face buried in his fluffy brown hair. At some point, Tyler had noticed a quiet snoring beside him. He pulled back gently to look at him.  


His mouth hung open in a most child like manner. Tyler was in awe as to how someone could achieve such a level of beauty without being aware of it. Tyler knew he should wake him but instead he leaned up and kissed the corner of the pink haired man's mouth. Tyler told himself what Josh didn't know wouldn't hurt him as Josh sighed happily in his sleep.  


Tyler placed his head on Josh's chest. The steady beating of his heart brought Tyler's eyes drooping with effort to stay awake. As his body and mind slipped into the realm of dreams, he wondered if this was okay. He couldn't bring himself to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm aware Josh didn't write Addict with a Pen. All lyrics are property of Twenty One Pilots and are used solely for entertainment purposes.  
> I know this chapter is kind of short and suckish but I hope you like it. More soon if you keep reading.  
> ~ Abbey


	5. Truce

Tyler woke to Josh stirring gently, beneath him. Tyler kept his eyes closed, too comfortable to be bothered. Josh shifted ever so slightly and kissed Tyler's forehead, believing him to be deep in slumber.  
He repositioned, again, toward the edge of the bed before he uttered something Tyler didn't expect.

"Oh shit," Josh exclaimed frantically. He sat up then, taking Tyler with him. 

Tyler's eyes shot open and he pulled away in alarm. When their eyes met, the brunette was giving Josh the most tragic expression possible while managing to simultaneously appear exhausted. Josh looked contrite and guilty, then. He quickly grabbed Tyler's tattooed wrist and pulled him, snugly back into his arms. 

Once Tyler's was cheek to stubbly cheek with him, Josh whispered, "I'm gonna be late for work." 

"M’really sorry," Tyler mumbled meekly, Tyler started to push away from the cuddling. 

Josh shushed him as he leaned back slowly, taking Tyler down beside him, pulling a cover over them as they fell against the pillows. Josh pulled back to look at Tyler, his eyes puffy from sleep. Tyler was used to the nagging urge to drink when immediately after waking but never before had he felt the strange sensation of missing someone before they’d even gone. Before he knew what he was doing, Tyler had reached over and cupped Josh's face, thumb gently stroking his cheek. Josh smiled, his tired, light brown eyes searching Tyler's. 

All of the sudden, the pink haired man had moved so close that Tyler could feel his steady breathing against his lips. Tyler’s breath however sped up within his chest in a strange mixture of emotions and desires. 

Josh's eyes slipped closed and he came closer still until his lips were grazing Ty’s. He wasn't being kissed, exactly, but there was no air in Tyler's lungs, suddenly. 

"Wanna kiss you goodbye, so badly," Josh murmured, tickling Tyler's lips. 

Tyler wanted to kiss him just as badly but something stopped him from sealing the embrace. For a moment they simply breathed each other’s air, then Josh was moving from underneath Tyler. The tardy teacher’s assistant winced as he glanced at the clock, which read 7:23 a.m. He looked down at Tyler and pulled the comforter up to the petite man’s shoulders. He carded his fingers through Tyler's fluffy, brown hair for a moment before kissing his forehead, unrepentant this time. 

Tyler couldn't stop the contented 'hmm' that escaped his throat. 

"Go back to sleep," Josh instructed, reaching to grab his shoes from the floor, "I'll see you later?" 

"M'kay," was all Tyler managed before his eyes were creeping closed. ××× Tyler came to, to a distant, yet persistent knocking. He practically jumped from beneath the covers and all but sprinted to the front door, anticipating Josh on the other side. He was quite shocked and only minutely disappointed to see his kid sister, Madison, twirling a strand of blonde hair behind the door. It seemed it was becoming a pattern of Tyler becoming so overcome with emotion that he couldn’t contain it. Before she could even speak a ‘hello,’ Tyler was squeezing the girl against his chest. “Tyler,” Madison groaned as he constricted her in a hug, “I can’t breathe.” 

Tyler released her, then, muttering an apology. She readjusted her flannel and asked brazenly, “well, are you gonna let me in?” 

Tyler stiffly stepped aside to let her by. She staunchly headed for the living room and flopped down on the couch, like she owned the place. Once upon a time, she was a frequent visitor… before the thing Tyler couldn’t think about happened. Tyler sat down beside her, at a bit of a loss for words. 

“So, I’m confused,” the blonde confided, looking around the room, “were Zack and dad lying?” 

“About what, exactly?” Tyler inquired dryly. 

“About this place… and you,” she began, “he said it was all destroyed and disgusting and that you were the worst he’d ever seen you.” 

“Shouldn't you be in class or something?” Tyler deflected with vexation. 

“Don't change the subject,” the younger sibling commanded. 

“I… uh,” Tyler grumbled avoiding her eyes, “I've had some help.” 

“Who from?” Madison interrogated tutelary, tapping his chin until he met her gaze. 

“H-his name is Josh,” Tyler spouted, prostrate. She began beaming then. 

Tyler was already shaking his head in disaffirmation. He told himself that it wasn't like that between he and Josh despite all that had happened between them in a short time. He could rationalize it, or so he kept telling himself. 

“So, uh,” the young woman probed further, “where did you meet Josh?” 

“He saved my life,” Tyler blurted, wondering why he was incapable of hiding these things from his sister. Her familiar, brown eyes widened at that, “you almost died?” 

Tyler sighed deeply, then and admitted in almost a whisper, “I almost killed myself.” 

Consequently, it was Madison’s turn to hug the breath out of him. 

“I'm so sorry, Tyler,” she sniffled into his shoulder, “we all let you down.” 

Tyler paused in patting her on the back to laugh. He pushed the girl back and held her at arms length. 

"None of this is on you, Mads,” Tyler assured, his tone dark, “everything that happened is on me.” 

Tears were running down her cheeks as she indignantly told him, “it was never your fault! What Joh-“ 

Tyler cut her off, pleadingly, as the images began pooling behind his eyes, straightaway, “Don’t!!! Please! Please, don't say his name!” 

Then he was sobbing as Madison pulled his head back to her shoulder, apologizing profusely. He couldn't stop the tears as his brain begged for liquor to blur out the pictures. 

He wanted to fall into a vat of vodka and sink to the bottom but instead he asked between hiccupping sobs, “can we go somewhere?” 

Madison pushed to her feet then, her eyes red with tears, “of course. I’ll drive us somewhere.” 

Tyler stood slowly and wiped his eyes on his T-shirt and quietly said, “No, let’s walk.” 

Madison seemed confused but nodded as he scrambled to his feet. She waited in the living room while Tyler dressed in his bedroom with his nose running. Down the line, they were ambling down the familiar street, the Autumn breeze blowing their hair about. Madison reached over and briefly held a clump of curly hair between two fingers. 

“You need a hair cut,” she derided with a chuckle. 

“Yeah, well,” Tyler quipped with a good-humored smirk, “your roots are showing.” 

He tapped the top of her head where the true dusky color was beginning to peek through blonde. She hip checked him and laughed as he stumbled sideways. 

Eventually, they made their way to a public park and the two of them plopped down on two swings. 

“So,” the younger sibling started, pushing back and beginning to swing, “tell me about Josh.” 

Tyler gave an experimental kick-off on his swing and cleared his throat. 

“What about him?” Tyler replied as Madison swung higher and higher. 

“What’s he like? What does he do?” the young woman added, a blur of legs and blowing blonde hair. 

“Um…” Tyler stalled, careful calculating an answer, “Josh is… good.” 

His sister blew a raspberry and retorted dryly, “well, jeez, that’s specific.” 

Tyler watched her swing for a moment, his hands gripping the chains tightly. He was regretting not having worn a sweatshirt as the wind blew chills down his back like cold, sharp fingers. Then he had a flashing memory of sitting next to Josh near the water and cliché as it sounds, Tyler felt a little warmer in his core. 

“Josh is… too kind for this world,” Tyler started, his brown eyes trained on the tumbling of crunchy leaves in the Autumnal gusts, “he’s the kinda guy they write sonnets about. Giving to a goddamn fault and so damn understanding. And he writes this poetry it’s just… breath taking.” 

Tyler was so caught up that he had failed to notice that Madison had slowed to a halt beside him, her face, a mask of bewilderment. 

“He's a teaching assistant,” Tyler added with senseless rosiness, “and a poet.” 

His sister, it seemed was stunned into silence, for the moment. 

“Did you get the groceries mom left?” she asked finally, sensing Tyler's internal conflict. 

“Uh… Yeah,” the older sibling affirmed, gratefully, “thank her for me.” 

“Good,” Madison said popping to her feet, “I'm starving.” ××× “I'm so obviously the best cook in the family,” Madison bragged, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. 

“Psh,” Tyler scoffed, leaning against the door frame as his sister whirled around the kitchen beating eggs and chopping vegetables and ham, “you're the omelet queen but you've got nothing on my breakfast pizzas.” 

“Oh my gosh,” the younger sibling shouted zestfully, as she flipped “I forgot about those! You have to make those next time I-.” 

She stopped short, then, turning instead to grab one of two nearby plates. She slid the omelet on to one and held it out to her, now, suspicious brother. 

He slowly reached and took it before interrogating, “mom and dad don't know you're here, do they?” 

The blonde sighed as she poured the egg second portion of egg mixture into the pan, “no but let me explain.” 

Tyler was already rolling his eyes when he heard the front door creak open and a comforting voice call out, “anyone home?” 

It took everything Tyler had not to drop his plate as Madison turned, a look of intrigue clear on her face. 

“In the kitchen,” Tyler blabbed, his voice quavering with nerves. 

As soon as he caught sight of Josh's fluffy pink hair and radiant smile, his heart was pounding. Madison flipped her omelet and paused expectantly as Tyler sat his plate on the counter. Josh however gained a fixated disposition as he strode towards Tyler, giving him a look that made his cheeks flush and embarrassingly caused a pool of heat in his loins. 

Then Josh was before him. Tyler soon realized Josh hadn’t noticed his sister as the smaller man grabbed him by the waist and pulled his hips flush against his own. Josh pressed his lips to the spot just below Tyler's ear and gently placed a kiss there, sending chills down his back. 

Tyler cleared his throat and uttered with some difficulty, “Josh, I have company.” 

Josh turned and finally took in the blushing blonde trying ineffectually to hide an enormous grin. 

“My sister, Madison,” Tyler introduced, his face burning and his mind befuddled with paradoxical predilection. 

Josh seemed to snap out of a daze of sorts then, stepping forward, his hand out to be shaken and giving his best smile. 

“Great to meet you, I'm Jo-“ the poet started. 

“Josh,” Madison finished for him, shaking his outstretched hand, “I've heard about you.” 

Her smile was just as wide but Tyler could see some apprehension behind it. 

Josh gave Tyler a surprised expression over his shoulder and retorted, “only good things, I hope.” 

The young woman chuckled and moved to remove the omelet from the pan and plainly responded, “very. Are you hungry, Josh?” 

“Oh no, I couldn't intrude,” Josh declined politely, “I just came to say hello to Tyler.” 

Tyler knew that meant that Josh would leave and Tyler didn't want that. He'd only just arrived. 

“Mads is the omelet queen, Josh,” the brunette found himself saying, “you should try one.” 

“I don't want to interrupt your time together,” Josh told him, his tea colored eyes filled with affection. 

“It's really no trouble,” Madison told him already reaching in the fridge for ingredients, “I insist. I can’t stay much longer anyways. I’ve got case files to study.” 

Josh considered it a moment. His eyes fell on Tyler’s hopeful expression and nodded resolutely. 

“Okay,” Josh said with a grin, “but only on the condition that you sit down and eat and let me cook it. The queen shouldn't do her own dirty work.” 

Madison laughed and grabbed her plate and a fork before heading for the living room. 

“I like him,” she whispered to Tyler as she passed. 

So that’s how it came to be, that Josh, Tyler and Madison were seated on the floor surrounding the coffee table in a silence that wasn't quite comfortable. Josh sat just close enough that his knee was touching Tyler’s as the steady sound of silverware clacking and polite chewing was all that could be heard. They all three had a bottle of water and Tyler took a deep swallow from his. 

Madison cleared her throat now that her plate was clean. 

“So, I hear you write some sick poetry, dude,” Madison probed towards Josh. It was the shorter man’s turn to redden in the face. 

“I've got nothing on Tyler’s paintings,” Josh murmured, his cheeks reddened as he nodded toward the sheet-covered canvas. 

“There are new paintings?!” Madison nearly shouted with excitement. 

Before either of them could answer she was on her feet and moving to pull the paint covered sheet away. 

Like Josh, she froze for a moment but the difference was Tyler could practically see the cogs turning in her brain removing whatever façade he’d upheld in terms of his feelings for Josh. She turned, smiling despite the tears flowing down her cheeks. Then, she was pulling Josh to his feet and enfolding him in a rib-crushing hug. 

Josh looked helplessly at Tyler for a moment before the blonde whispered, “thank you for bringing my brother back.” 

Josh gasped quietly and slowly returned the hug. ××× Soon after, when the dishes were cleaned and the tears had ceased Tyler and Josh stood side by side near the front door as Madison prepared to leave. She didn’t seem even vaguely embarrassed at her sudden display of emotion as she hugged them both in turn. 

“Show him the others, Ty,” she suggested her voice still thick with her crying. 

“The other what?” Tyler’s pink-haired counterpart inquired curiously. 

Tyler’s mouth gaped at her as she smiled, kissed his cheek and closed the door behind her. 

“Now, I’m confused,” Josh whispered, grasping Tyler by the wrist, “what did she mean?” 

Tyler debated himself for a moment before sighing. 

“Follow me,” Tyler breathed, trusting Josh was listening hard enough to hear him and headed towards the living room. 

He moved to where an old, worn blanket hung from the wall and pulled it down to reveal a door. 

“I didn't know this was here. Where does it lead?” Josh examined tentatively, apprehension and curiosity mingling in his voice. 

“The basement,” Tyler grumbled and grabbed the handle. 

He flipped a switch as he moved to the first rickety step. Dust motes flew up with each step down and Tyler looked back only to make sure Josh was following. He was. 

When they reached the bottom, Tyler took a moment to remember the last time he'd been down here and he knew that he had been heart broken and desperate to hide the paintings which lay in stacks covered with sheets in corner. Josh gently placed a hand on the brunette’s shoulder causing him to nearly jump from his skin. He'd forgotten for a moment, that wasn't alone. 

He started across the musty basement with Josh in tow and ripped the sheet away and stepped aside. Josh dropped to his knees before them pausing to coax Tyler down beside him. Then he began to pore over the abandoned art. There were about 3 stacks of five paintings and Josh studied each individually before gingerly setting one aside when he finished. Tyler knew that were some of his best work was here but each thing was laced with memories that Tyler had tried desperately to forget. 

There were so many forest scenes painted in greens and blacks and Josh glanced at Tyler with thinly veiled confusion. Josh couldn't understand why what appeared to have once been one of Tyler's greatest inspirations now sent him spiraling into panic attacks. Then he moved to a particularly weathered canvas and Tyler thought his heart might stop. 

Forever frozen in bright, cartoonish caricature were two young boys sitting side by side in the reflection of a mirror. One boy held a small canvas and a paint brush in hands, smiling comically back at them, and the smaller of two boys peered affectionately at the other, holding bunny ears over his head. It took every ounce of control Tyler had not to rip the painting from the pink-haired man’s hands and set it ablaze right there. 

“T-That's you, right?” Josh inquired, his voice soft, “but who-“ 

Tyler knew what he was going to say and he knew he couldn't tell him, not without losing himself again, so his did the thing he feared second most. 

He shoved the painting from Josh's hands, grabbed him by the collar of his flowered shirt and kissed him with bruising strength. Josh froze against him for a moment before he was kissing him back, hungrily. Tyler hated himself for using distraction as a method of avoidance but then Josh's tongue licked his lower lip begging for entry and Tyler temporarily lost sight as to why he hadn’t done it sooner. 

Soon, Josh was practically straddling Tyler's hips as the kiss deepened. He usually gentle demeanor lost to the oblivion between them as he dragged fingers through Tyler's hair. Tyler could hardly breath as his and Josh's breath ripped from their chests in ecstasy. Then, Tyler's back was flat against the cool concrete as Josh crushed his mouth against his, his tongue exploring and teasing his own. 

Tyler felt himself growing hard under the pressure of Josh's hips against his. Worse yet, he thought, he could feel Josh growing aroused against him, sending dark desires throughout his brain. Josh seemed to notice too as he pinned Tyler's arms above his head and ground his steadily hardening erection against Tyler's. A groan spilled from Tyler's otherwise occupied mouth as lust pooled in his groin. 

He pulled back with what little room he had and pleaded in a wrecked voice he barely recognized, “Josh, we should stop.” 

He didn't truly want to but he didn't know what would transpire if they didn't. 

Josh was moving then at startling speed from off of Tyler. 

He pulled Tyler to his feet, guilt clear on his face, “I'm so sorry, Tyler. I don't know what got into me.” 

Tyler was already shaking his head, “don't be. I started it.” 

Josh pulled him into a hug and Tyler could feel him shaking, though with what emotion, he couldn't say. 

“I shouldn’t have,” Josh cleared his throat with embarrassment, “you know.” 

Tyler's cheeks flamed as Josh’s eyes dropped to the uncomfortable bulge in his pants. He forced himself to shrug and started toward the stairs. Josh followed quietly as Tyler ascended. He moved aside at the top of the stairs to let Josh pass and flick off the light. He closed the door behind them and sighed in relief. He closed his eyes for a moment and licked his kiss-swollen lips. When he looked up he was helpless to notice Josh staring longingly at his mouth. 

“Come on,” Josh said, his voice thick, “I want to take you some place.” 

Soon after, Tyler sat nervously in the passenger seat of Josh's car as they pulled up and parked beside a bustling bookstore/café combo called Reader's Rainbow. 

"This is what you had in mind?" Tyler probed guarded, his palms a bit sweaty. 

"Yeah," Josh admitted, removing the keys from the ignition, "I thought maybe we could split a muffin and peruse the stacks." 

Despite his apprehension, Tyler swallowed his protests and unbuckled his seat belt. He was still gathering courage when Josh appeared outside the passenger side window and opened his door for him. 

The pink haired man held out a hand and said, "come on." 

Tyler took it reluctantly and ducked out of the car. A bell jingled as they pushed through the glass door into the crowded store front. Tyler was instantly overwhelmed with the indistinct sounds of idle chatter and let go of Josh's hands as he faltered near the door. 

Josh turned his face eager but concerned, "it's going to be okay, I promise." 

Tyler gulped and stumbled after him as he moved to stand in line for the café counter. It took everything Tyler had not to cling to Josh's shirt as he tried to take in the steady hum of patrons surrounding him. Josh reached behind him and slowly took Tyler's hand back in his, towing him forward each time the line moved. Tyler forced himself to focus on that point of contract and the comforting warmth of Josh's skin against his. 

Finally, they reached a smiley blonde with glittery braces who gave Tyler a pang of remembrance of the girl from the liquor store. Josh made his order and let go of Tyler's hand to reach for his wallet and paid the girl. He came away with a huge blueberry muffin and pulled Tyler by the sleeve toward the book shelves. 

It was more quiet in the section of the store and the air was rich with the sent of well-loved literature. Tyler noted the diverse mixtures of modern fiction and classic novels and Josh and himself meandered through the sections. He found himself leafing through a thick, colorful book about abstract painting that seemed to call his name from the shelf. Josh smiled enthusiastically with his mouth full of muffin and excused himself further down the stacks, leaving Tyler to ravenously sift through the pages of the book. 

By the time, Josh returned with a number of weathered poetry volumes tucked under his arm, Tyler had already nearly finished the first chapter while distractedly eating pieces of the muffin had left on the table beside him. Josh sat beside him and sat his books gently on the table. 

"Are you ready to go?" Josh asked with a fist ticked under his chin. 

Tyler looked from Josh to the book and back again with alarm, "b-but I-." 

Josh just chuckled and plucked the book from Tyler's hands and added it to the stack with his own. 

He tossed the empty muffin paper in a nearby trash can and stood from the table, scooping the books up with him. Tyler followed him with some confusion to a middle aged woman behind a desk in the very back of the store. She smiled warmly as they approached and greeted Josh by name as he sat the books before her. Josh said hello and thanked her for visiting with his students during career day and asked her about her dog. Tyler watched this all with amusement at Josh's well-disposed behavior. 

Josh paid the woman and then, they were leaving with a bag of books. Josh placed the bag in the backseat and squeezed the thinner man's knee. 

"What do you think?" Josh asked expectantly. 

"About what?" Tyler responded uncertainly. 

"The store," Josh stated with a nod, "do you like it?" 

"Well, the café is a little nuts," Tyler mumbled meekly, "but the books are great." 

Josh beamed, then and squeezed Tyler's knee, "do you want to work there?" 

Tyler's mouth dropped open, "wha-what do you mean?" 

"My friend, Mark manages it," Josh began, "Belinda, the woman who rang us out is about to retire and he needs someone to take her spot." 

"M-me?" Tyler sputtered, "I don't know, Josh. I haven't had a real job since high school. I'd probably screw it up." 

Josh shook his head and went on to say, "it's cake. All you have to do is keep it clean and organized, ring people out and occasionally help people find books. Belinda will train you, so you won't be on your own right away. I promise it would be good." 

Tyler stared at his hands and contemplated the possibility of being able to pay his own bills and getting to spend his days surrounded by art in one form or another. 

"Okay," he muttered nodding toward Josh. He smiled then and repeated confidently, "okay, I'll do it." 

Josh clapped his hands and turned the key in the ignition, "great! I'll call Mark on my way home, tonight." 

With that, Josh started the car and they pulled away from the curb. 

When they reached Tyler's place and closed the door behind them, Tyler found that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Josh took the question away as he sat the bag on the floor, turned Tyler toward him and tucked him against his chest. They were cheek to stubbly cheek and Tyler couldn't stop himself from softly kissing the soft hollow below Josh's ear. The shorter man shivered and pressed his fingers into Tyler's long hair. 

He carded through it for a moment before laughing. 

"What?" Tyler demanded playfully, pulling away to look Josh in the face. 

Josh ran two fingers down a curly brown strand and whispered, "you need a hair cut." 

Tyler surprised himself by shrugging and replying cavalier like, "cut it for me." 

So, to both of their astonishment they found themselves in the bathroom, Tyler seated on a wooden stool as Josh snipped away at his hair with a pair of kitchen scissors. Josh would occasionally turn Tyler's head either which way and buzz parts of his head with his old trimmers. Soon, Josh was staring down at him, a look of appreciation on his reddened face as he pulled the towel from around Tyler's shoulders. 

"God, I'd have never recognized you like this, a week ago," Josh admitted, his voice soft and full of awe. 

Tyler turned and faced his reflection in the mirror and suddenly realized what his sister meant when she thanked Josh. For the first time in a year, Tyler didn't hate the face looking back at him. He was himself again. Scarred but real. Clean and alive and hopeful for the first time in forever. Tyler ran his fingers over the spiky buzzing of hair on one side of his head and was so thankful, he could feel tears prickling in his eyes. He met Josh's eyes in the mirror as the poet placed a hand on his shoulder and the warmth he felt in turn left him breathless. 

A few minutes later, Josh and Tyler once again stood near the front door, holding on to each other. 

"Thank you for today," Josh told the brunette, compulsively stroking the back of Tyler's now shaven neck. 

Tyler laughed into the side of Josh's sweet smelling throat, "I should be thanking you." 

"I mean it, Tyler," Josh said pushing Tyler back slightly to look him in his deep brown eyes, "every day since you've come into my life has been a gift." 

Tyler shook his head with disbelief, wondering how he could possibly have made a difference in this selfless man's life but before he could questioned it, Josh was kissing again but unlike the last, the kiss was tender and bordering on worshiping. 

"You. Are. So. Good," Josh crooned between kisses, "you. Are. Worth. It. All." 

Tyler had never felt like this before, never so loved or so wanted. He wanted to bottle this feeling and keep it forever buried in his chest but too quickly Josh was pulling away and moving toward the door. He paused to hand Tyler his book and eyes met one more time. 

Josh opened the door and purred to Tyler, "I'll let you know what Mark says tomorrow. Good night, Lovely." 

Then, he was gone leaving Tyler with his reading material and a chest full of warm adoring feelings. 

"Shit," Tyler mumbled to himself and went to read his new book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry this chapter has taken so long. I'm so thankful for all of you who've taken the time out to read this and leave comments. I'm going to try to write faster. Please stick with me and as always, comments, suggestions and critiques are not only welcome but completely necessary. Thank you!  
> ~ Abbey


End file.
